


A Most Precious Gift

by sketchy_and_unreliable



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Brutal Murder, Dom/sub Undertones, Guro, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Just some soft love, M/M, Murder Husbands, Mutilation, No Smut, Organs, POV Third Person Omniscient, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will is a happy organ boy, and evisceration, light pet play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 21:26:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketchy_and_unreliable/pseuds/sketchy_and_unreliable
Summary: Will reached both hands into the opening and ripped the abdomen apart.  It was hard work, but worth it to see the prize underneath.  Glistening, pulsing, bleeding organs greeted him, a sweeter sight than a work of art.  Hannibal had given this to him, to let him do as he pleased.





	A Most Precious Gift

**Author's Note:**

> This is an out of character, plotless, utterly self-indulgent work.  
> Please check the tags thoroughly before reading.

Joshua Caroll awoke blearily with heaviness in his limbs and fluorescent light in his eyes.

He was shirtless, the cold floor he was lying on rendering his back numb.  Voices reached the edges of his hearing. He wasn't alone.

Standing above him with a few feet of distance were two men.  The harsh overhead lighting of the windowless room cast them somewhat in silhouette, but he could tell one was broad and had exceedingly tidy hair and clothes, while the other was slim and kind of scruffy.   _ He seemed to have something on his neck as well, something the other man was touching...or maybe he had him by the throat… _

"I'm sure you're feeling very disoriented, Mr. Caroll," said the broad one, in a thick accent of some kind.  "It can be frightening to wake where you didn't fall asleep.

"The drugs likely don't help.  Paralytics, local anaesthetic… without control of your body, you become a simple, pulsing thing.  A container for viscera." 

The other man twitched at that.

Joshua tried to move, and found he couldn't.  Panic filled his body, but the adrenaline had nowhere to do, preparing him for actions he couldn't carry out.   _ Where was he?  Where was his wife? _

"Please, please, come on already.  I know you're only talking to him to draw it out." The leather collar tugged against his fingers as his love shifted from foot to foot.

Hannibal couldn't be more pleased with this rude interruption.  The man he held could break free at any moment to do as he pleased, and yet still he heeled at Hannibal's request, even as he trembled with impatience.  Will was utterly perfect.

"That's hardly fair to our guest." He turned once more to the prone body. "I assure you there's no need to be frightened.  You won't feel a thing, and you will serve a grander purpose, as a sacrifice to the loveliest creature this world has seen." 

Will frowned up at him, but Hannibal only smiled and lightly touched his scarred face with his free hand.

Joshua was lost.  He was going to die, the basement and the insane men told him that.  But he did feel.  _ Paralytics and anaesthetics _ … he couldn't move, but if the cold floor under his back and the way his head pounded meant anything, he definitely wasn't numb.   _ There must have been a mistake.  Did they forget to give him the painkillers _ ?  He tried to tell them, but his mouth wouldn't move, and his voice remained a garbled thing in his throat.  _ He would feel a thing, he would… _

"Please, Hannibal?" Will was thrumming with nervous energy.  It took all of his effort not to rush to his gift immediately, though he knew he wouldn't dare.  Hannibal looked to him, warmth in his eyes.

"And why should I let you? Do you really think you've earned what I've given to you?"

"Yes, yes, I've been so good, I'll be so good, I'll do whatever you want, just-" Will barely even knew what he was saying.  His want for flesh under his hands was so strong, he thought he may cry. Only the fingers hooked under the collar on his neck felt real. He curled closer to the man he loved− hated _− what was the difference anyway_ − and begged without shame.

"Oh Will," Hannibal said, and something like worship colored his voice.  "I could never deny you a thing."

Will felt warm hands manipulating his collar, and then he was free.

In an instant, the man was by Joshua's side, and it was only at this proximity that he could see the feral light in stormy gray eyes.  He wanted to scream, to at least explain that he didn't want to feel this, that he didn't deserve this, but he was utterly trapped inside his body.  And this monster looked like he wanted to free him in the worst possible way.

Will wanted him open, and he wanted it  _ now _ .  His nails scratched desperately at the man's chest, determined to tear his way through to what lay beneath.  A voice at his back chided him fondly, and brought him back to sense.

"You need to use your tools, Will.  You can't open him by yourself."

Will paused his scrabbling to look to the tarp that lay next to the man's head.  The scalpel would be best. He picked up the gleaming knife, remembering not to hold it with his index finger at the top of the blade, the way Hannibal taught him.  He carefully took the tool to the man's left pectoral, just under the clavicle. The flesh parted in a smooth, unhesitant diagonal line, just to the base of the chest.  He moved up to the other clavicle, doing his best to replicate the action.  _  Hannibal should have drawn dotted lines for him beforehand... _  Will flushed lightly, feeling guilty for asking more from his gift, even in his own mind.  But sure enough, the V wasn't perfect. The first line had been too long, it didn't quite intersect the way it should have.  

He could feel eyes on him, sure that Hannibal would make fun of his for this clumsy mistake. In a fit of pique, he tossed the scalpel aside and reached for what he really wanted.

The knife was brutally sharp, and Will delighted in the weight of it in his hand.  Swiftly, he dug it into the base of the chest and yanked the blade downward with all of his strength, fighting muscle and flesh and connective tissue and not caring how inefficient it was.  Blood immediately welled from the jagged wound, nothing like the incisions on the chest, and Will couldn't help but grin at the sight.

He reached both hands into the opening and ripped the abdomen apart.  It was hard work, but worth it to see the prize underneath. Glistening, pulsing, bleeding organs greeted him, a sweeter sight than a work of art.  _  Hannibal had given this to him, to let him do as he pleased _ .  His chest filled with love for the man, and turned to look at him.  Words failed him, but he hoped his lover could see the look on his face and understand.  He surely would− there was nothing one didn't know about the other. Hannibal smiled back and made a 'go on' gesture, and that was all Will needed.

He dove his hands into the small intestine first, delighting at the smooth, slippery texture that pulsed around him with hot, sweet blood in their web of capillaries.  Will cast around inside, pawing deeper to find the kidneys that he cupped in both hands, so gently. He pulled back upward, just brushing over the spleen along the way to reach the liver.  This was one of his favorites. Feeling cheeky, he looked up at the stranger's pale face and asked, "You don't have any drug or drinking problems, right?"

And then he lunged for the organ, filling his mouth with a decent sized bite before ripping it away with his teeth.  The taste utterly paled in comparison to Hannibal's usage of liver, but Will wasn't chewing away for the flavor. The utter brutality of the act in itself brought the delight to the experience, and he couldn't believe he had ever wanted to deny himself this.

"I don't mean to rush you, dear Will, but I don't think our friend has much left for this world," Hannibal said behind him with some amusement.

Joshua could barely hear this.  The pain wracking his body was all-consuming, a tsunami of red that had pulled him to what he was pretty sure was madness.  He had been utterly torn apart, and had barely any time to understand the sensation of his organs being exposed to cool open air before this creature utterly ravaged him.  _  He just wanted to escape, to sleep, _ but for some reason it was so hard to let go of his life.  And he realized now, listening to the other man's voice, that his lack of anaesthetic had been no mistake at all.

Will saw the tear tracks on the man's wretched, spasming face.  Hannibal had lied to him. But his violence had so utterly enveloped him that the thought was distant, along with any other thought in his head.  But he was running out of time, so he decided to hurry and enjoy the best part.

He sidled up the body and dove for Hannibal's neck, teeth digging through flesh and corded muscle for the purpose of ripping free.  Blood flowed immediately, even spurting as that delightful, theatrical carotid arced through the air to splash Will's face. He began mouthing and lapping at the wound, filling his mouth with rich, dark iron.  He didn't swallow, but let it dribble messily down his chin as it mingled with saliva. Hannibal's ichor, given to him so freely.

The flow of blood was coming in less regular pulses now, but he had one more pleasure to indulge in.  He reached under Hannibal's ribs, using his knife to quickly tear the diaphragm open, and worked his hand up to the heart.  It was beating so weakly now, and he humored the muscle briefly with internal cardiac massage. Then he pulled it free, tearing away pericardium, mangling the aorta it so desperately clung to.  And then it was his at last.

Hannibal's heart beat in his hand, warm and leaking down to his wrist.  He partook of it reverently, as the ambrosia it was. He did swallow this time, and warmth spread through his body as his lover was finally inside, a part of him now, having given him the most he could possibly give.  Will near wept for the beauty of it.

The heart finally came to a stop, and then he was holding a muscle that belonged to nothing.  He rested it on the cooling corpse and turned. On unsteady feet, he near fell into a gentle embrace, now suddenly exhausted by the physical and emotional intensity of his actions.  He nuzzled into Hannibal's chest, where a heat beat firm and true, and he simply couldn't bring himself to be disappointed.

"Thank you," he murmured, and felt arms pull him closer and lift him up.

Hannibal had removed his waistcoat and tie, and so only his collared dress shirt was ruined by the creature utterly soaking in blood.  He reeked of humors and an unfamiliar man. He looked to the corpse and sighed. As he had predicted, it was too severely mangled to salvage any decent meat.  He was glad he hadn't wasted the valuable chemicals preventing the poor taste of fear. Such an incredible waste of a good pig.

But he looked to the sleepy, bloody man in his arms and knew it had been worth it.  Will smiled up at him with such adoration that Hannibal's heart nearly burst.

"Thank you," he said again, and kissed him with bloodstained lips.

Hannibal held him closer, ignoring the mess, and made for the basement stairs.  He could take care of the body later.

"A bath, I think, and then you can prove to me that you deserved your gift."

And the hum of utter satisfaction that vibrated against his chest was worth more than anything Hannibal could have possibly given him.

 


End file.
